


Hold Her

by MasterOfDisguise



Category: Mystic Messenger
Genre: Angst, Cute, F/M, Forever the cutest, Glad it worked, In the end, Sadness, all works out, aw, mc and Saeyoung are just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterOfDisguise/pseuds/MasterOfDisguise
Summary: MC is hopelessly in love with Saeyoung, and the guilt eats away at him, so he suggests trying.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! I've never written on here, but the community seems much nicer than Wattpad. Please comment!! Turned it into a series, called Separation. Be sure to check it out if you liked this!!

  She wasn't used to things like this. She wasn't used to being thrown into a whirlwind of confusion, nonetheless just a little over a week and a half to organize a fucking party. 

  She wasn't used to any of this. She's never done any of it. 

  She had grown up, living a mostly normal life, and here she is, in an apartment of a dead woman with a bomb in it. 

  How was she supposed to be okay with it? 

  No, no, why is she okay with it?

 

Maybe it was because the red head that sat in the couch in front of her, the headphones covering his ears as he typed something up on his laptop. 

He was desperately trying to keep his attention from her.

She was desperately trying to get his. 

 

She wished he understood. She desperately wished he understood the pain he caused her, but at the same time, she knows there must be a lot of pain for him to have endured to push her away like that. 

 

She lay in bed that night, crying softly to herself. She didn't want to bother him. She felt like all her efforts at this point were pointless. She cared so much but it seemed as if he cared so little.

She curled herself into a ball, sobbing into the pillow next to her. What she felt for this man was what she'd never felt for any other, and it hurt. She'd finally found someone who she dared to even say she loved, and his feelings weren't reciprocated. 

 

He had built a wall between them because he didn't want her getting hurt. He could hear every sad, muffled sob through the thin walls, and every time it tore at him a little more. He didn't know how much longer he could do this, or if he could even think about continuing trying to punch her away. 

'Come on, Saeyoung. Pull yourself together. It's best for the both of you.'

He thought, desperately trying to think up excuses to ignore her. 

She's in there crying because of him. What he wouldn't give to walk in there, hold her and tell her that everything is going to be alright in a day or two, and whatever was troubling her wouldn't be a big issue a month or two down the road. 

But this was his fault. This was because of him. What was he supposed to do, walk in and tell her what an asshole he is?

He knows he's an asshole for it, in a sense a protective one, but he doesn't know how to fix it. He doesn't know how to help her while she's hurting. 

 

He took another sip of the carbonated beverage which he sat on the coffee table, desperately trying to keep his mind from the beautiful woman sobbing in the other room. 

She'd done nothing wrong, and here she is, crying because he is a major asshole who keeps pushing her further and further away. 

She is so persistent, he wish she'd give up to make things easier on the both of them, but if she was willing to help a some random people throw a party in eleven days, she probably wasn't going to give up as he wished, regardless if she was crying or not. 

 

However, a small part of him wished she wouldn't give up. He wished he would give into her and they'd live together in a magical fairytale with a happy ending. 

But people like him don't get happy endings. That's why he can't be with her. She's the definition of perfect and he doesn't deserve her. 

She's beautiful. She's got the kindest personality. She's funny. She's stubborn. 

He could be on hit lists. 

He couldn't take her life from her. There's so much for her to enjoy... to do... and out there is a perfect man for her. Her soulmate. A man who could take care of her and make her smile and

and

didn't make her cry. 

 

A man that didn't have red hair. A man that didn't sit at a computer all day. A man that was strong and tough and could protect her without

making 

her

cry. 

 

She deserved the perfect man. If it were up to Luciel, she'd have the world because he would've given it to her in a heartbeat!

She could have the perfect man, so why is she so upset about not having him? He's just someone she met by chance. 

 

It was 1:30 AM when he took his headphones off to get up and refill his cup, when he could hear her still crying. 

'Jesus fuckin' Christ, she's probably dehydrated from crying for the past 3 and a half hours. Probably flooded the room by now.'

The least he could do was bring her a glass of water, as she seemingly hasn't left the room. 

Filling a glass with water from the tap, he walked down the hall and knocked on her door. He heard a few sniffles that made his heart crumble into pieces with guilt. 

"C...come in..." she muttered, and he did so. She brushed a few loose strands behind her ears. 

He reached to turn the lights on, but she stopped him from the bed. 

"Please don't turn them on..." she said, sadness evident in her quiet voice. 

Everything that was happening was hurting him even more. He didn't know if he could keep this hard front he put up for very long. 

He was able to see enough in the dark to see where she sat, handing her the glass of water. 

"I figured that... you'd be, uh, a little thirsty." He said quietly, and she took the glass and took a sip of the water. 

"Yeah, thanks." She said, sitting the glass on the nightstand. He sat down next to her on the bed, feeling it dip a little. She was cold, and even though he was nearly a foot away, she could feel his warmth. 

He sighed. He wanted to hold her. 

He gently lay a hand on the bare skin of her thigh. 

"I'm so sorry..." he muttered, feeling his words slip from his mouth. 

"It's all my fault you're sad." He whispered, facing away from her. 

"No, it's my fault, if I hadn't of fucking fell in love with you I wouldn't be crying right now." She said, sniffling, and letting out a nervous laugh. She stood up, almost walking out before he grabbed onto her wrist. 

"Can we please talk?" He asked. 

"We talked enough earlier. I get it, you don't want to hurt me. I should get over it. Blah, blah, blah."

"No, MC, I want... to talk about...."

"About what, Luciel? Just reiterate that my feelings are one-sided? Because you've done it enough." She said, harshly, yanking her arm away from him. 

"I want to... see if we can make it work..." he whispered. She immediately felt guilty, the tears that never stopped flowing dripping from her face again. He took her in his arms, shushing her, telling her to calm down. Finally he got to hold her. Even if they couldn't work, as long as he got to hold her close to him that night, he thinks he might be okay.


End file.
